


theirs

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Clothing Kink, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, Fingerfucking, Kissing, Multi, Sharing, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/M/M, this never happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-05-04
Packaged: 2017-12-10 09:25:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“For what concerns the rest, I think it’s only fair that we should share equally.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	theirs

**Author's Note:**

> written for the ASOIAF kink meme - the prompt was _Theon finds a way to belong to both his desired families. Like, literally 'belong'. Asha and Robb share him, keep him buried in finery and affection on land and on sea. Keep him. He's theirs_. This totally goes alternate canon - please assume that Robb was never engaged to anyone named Frey. Nothing belongs to me ~~sadly for Theon since I think he'd have liked this outcome better, considering that this fic's basic point is 'Theon getting spoiled rotten and loving every moment of it'~~ except for the title, which as you probably imagine was a serious imagination effort. ;)

1.

“But look at it. I’ll have to give it to him - he has excellent taste. Well, at least when it concerns you.”

Not that Asha isn’t willing to admit that Robb Stark has a lot more positive qualities than she had ever given him credit for before meeting him - otherwise she would have never allied with him. Good thing that he actually came to the islands with her brother, back when the war started - at least she had been able to see that he was no idiot, and less of a green boy than she’d have thought. Fine, her father is probably rolling in his grave seeing the way things have gone, but the current situation beats risking a bloodbath for a stupid revenge that wouldn’t have brought anyone advantage.

“Why,” Theon answers, grinning as if he couldn’t be more pleased, “does that meet your approval?”

Asha has no clue where Stark might have found what looks like Dornish attire, probably in King’s Landing (from where Stark sent had the clothes sent and where he’s currently visiting Stannis Baratheon, someone out of the two of them has to deal with the diplomatic relationships and it surely won’t be her), but this outfit was an excellent choice. Fine, no man would ever risk walking around the islands wearing that kind of fine silk, but the dark red breeches and tunic do look good on Theon. It compliments his hair and skin pretty nicely - yes, the next time she’s on either Pyke or Harlaw she’ll see if she can find something suited of that same color. While she does appreciate Stark’s taste, she’s surely not letting him have the upper hand.

“Why, I can’t say it doesn’t.” She reaches out and grabs a handful of the tunic. Yes, definitely fine silk. In comparison, her leather breeches and shirt make her seem like a commoner, not that she minds. “Then again, it would be a pity to ruin it, considering what I had in mind right now. You wouldn’t mind too much if I take it off for the moment, or would you?”

“As long as you do it carefully.”

It’s a sacrifice that she can surely make. It would seriously be a pity to ruin those clothes - not that Stark won’t come back from King’s Landing with at least another couple, if she knows him, but she really does like this specific outfit.

“I think I can manage that,” she says as her hands reach for the tunic’s sides. To his credit, he doesn’t even blink before raising his arms and letting her take it off. She folds it carefully before putting it on the nearest chair, and then she moves on to the shirt’s laces.

“Did he also say when he would be back, other than sending clothes?”

“The messenger said that he was going to leave some five days after him.”

“Nice. At least I won’t have to keep on putting his bannermen in their place for much longer,” she replies before pulling the shirt off his shoulders and placing it over the folded tunic. Her hands go to the laces of his breeches then, and she grins when she notices that he’s half-hard already. He shivers slightly as his breeches fall on the ground, and he would since the room is a bit chilly, but she doesn’t give him time to complain - she pushes him downwards so that they fall on… well, it’s supposed to be Stark’s bed, but she thinks he hasn’t slept alone in it in months.

“Well, if his target was turning me on, I’ll have to give it to him, too - he’s doing it right.”

“And what were you planning to do about it?”

“Fucking you into the mattress seemed a good plan.” He visibly swallows as he arches back his head.

“You would?” he asks, and it’s obvious that he’s aroused - one would just need to hear him to know that, never mind that she has her fingers skimming along his breeches and she has proof right against her fingertips.

“I would right now,” she replies before leaning down and kissing him, his shoulders relaxing entirely - he doesn’t even attempt to not let her lead. Not that she won’t let him once in a while, but not right now. She doesn’t waste too much time in preliminaries - she also only gets rid of her breeches and smallclothes without bothering with her shirt. She also takes care to kiss him again the moment she proceeds to lower herself down on his cock - she swallows the moan that he lets out, and while she usually has no problem whatsoever with how noisy he tends to get… well, Stark isn’t around and this specific part of their arrangement isn’t exactly well-known.

She keeps a hand on his lips and one on his mouth after - same reason, they can’t afford noise - and she bites down on her own tongue just to avoid giving herself out as she rolls her hips downwards. He barely thrusts himself, and he’s mostly following her lead as she sets the pace. At some point she figures that maybe it’s wasted to keep her hand on his mouth just like that, and he doesn’t protest once when she slips a couple of fingers inside his mouth.

Huh. Interesting, she thinks as he runs his tongue along her fingertips. She’ll have to tell Stark next time, if he doesn’t know already - but if he had, she’d have known too.

He comes first, his back arching upwards, his teeth biting down on her fingers, and he’s such a pretty sight - swollen lips, eyes that are all pupil and flushing cheeks, she can’t help appreciating it before she peaks as well, clenching around him as she still feels him shaking underneath her.

After she pulls herself off him, she lets herself fall down on the covers - there’s a thin layer of sweat on his forehead and she wipes it away with a fingertip. His lips are still kiss-swollen and she leans forward to make sure they stay like that for a bit longer, and he goes with it at once, as if he’s only too happy to let her lead this dance.

“I’ll go find some water to clean up,” she says when the stickiness between her legs has started to become uncomfortable.

“There’s a full pitcher in the corner.”

“Since when did you learn to be prepared?”

“Fuck you very much,” he replies, but there’s absolutely no bite in it. As if. She finds the pitcher and a piece of cloth and she makes quick work of cleaning up the both of them - then she figures that she can go brew her moon tea tomorrow morning. Then she opens the drawer in Stark’s closet where she’s sure that she’ll find what she had in mind.

Right, there it is - a dark, soft wool tunic that she thinks Stark got for Theon in White Harbor - for being nightwear, it’s probably the finest thing you can find this far North.

She throws it at him and he catches it at once before shrugging, putting it on and getting under the covers. Considering that they’re sleeping in the king’s bed, they’re pretty fine covers as well. A lot finer than the ones Asha had on the iron islands - not that it makes a difference to her, but she supposes that there have to be some advantages in wearing a crown. Having nice sheets would probably be one.

“That’s not a bad color,” she declares as she looks at the tunic. “But I suppose I can see if I can find a red one when I go to Pyke.”

“Am I going to dress in bloody red forever from now on?” He doesn’t seem too adverse to the fact, though.

“Until both Stark and I get sick of it, I suppose, but I think it’s going to last a while.”

His until then smug grin gets even wider at that, and she can’t help it when she leans forward and catches it with her own lips - so maybe she makes a better ironborn than he ever will, but he makes a perfect salt husband in comparison. Patience if she has to share, but Robb Stark isn’t the worst option at all.

2.

“You should close your eyes.”

“Robb, neither of us is nine anymore.”

“That’s not the point. Come on, close them.”

“Well, be thankful that your bannermen aren’t seeing you insisting right now. Fine, fine, I’m doing it.”

Robb smiles to himself as Theon follows the order. He stands up, thankful that they’re on a big ship and that the floor isn’t wobbling under his feet even if outside the weather could be better. He heads for the packs of clothes they brought from Winterfell - not too many, but there was something he had seen at the market in White Harbor before leaving and that he kept hidden until now.

“Robb, can I remind you that I’m shirtless and that we’re at sea, and that it might not be full winter but spring hasn’t come already?”

“You’ll never know what patience is, will you? I’m coming.” He kneels behind Theon on one of the two beds in their shared cabin - it’s Theon’s, but they’ve just used Robb’s until now, and then he unfolds the shirt he had found at the market - it’s fine Myrish lace, sewn tightly, dark red with a few threads in silver on the cuffs. It’s ridiculously soft, and it did cost, but it should fit and Robb thinks that if he didn’t get the size wrong then it will totally be worth the price. He pulls Theon’s arms through the sleeves before moving in front of him and lacing it up.

He can feel Theon breathing slightly faster.

“You can open your eyes, if you want,” Robb says calmly as he starts lacing up the shirt. Theon does, blinking once or twice and then staring down at his wrists and arms. It’s the right size, Robb sees as he takes a step back.

“Woah. Robb, what were you thinking?”

“That it would look good on you.” That shirt fits Theon like a glove - Robb had figured it would be a nice fit, but not one as good as this. The color looks pretty damn nice on him as well, not that he hadn’t imagined that it wouldn’t, and Robb isn’t regretting all the gold he spent on it anytime soon.

“I’m pretty sure that if I leave the ship with this on when we arrive in Pyke, if they don’t kill me on spot they’ll take me for a Dornish paramour.”

“No one said that you have to do that. Actually, no one except me and your sister is going to see you in it, as far as I’m concerned - people on your bloody islands have no taste. But as far as I’m concerned, I’m definitely happy with it. Besides, you so don’t look Dornish.”

“Says the one who sends me Dornish clothes.”

“Next time don’t wear them so well.” Theon pretends to scowl at him, but since he’s moved so that he’s straddling Robb at the same time, it was a really poor attempt.

Not that Robb isn’t pleased with the developments. He runs a hand on Theon’s chest, humming appreciatively - that lace really feels good to the touch. When he reaches Theon’s hip, he moves his fingers under the shirt, his hand going to the small of Theon’s back, and he can’t help putting a bit of pressure so that Theon moves even forward - right now Robb has his back against the cabin’s wall and Theon’s knees are on the mattress, around Robb’s thighs.

“Does His Grace have need of me?”

“Stop with that, idiot. How many times I told you that you don’t have to call me like that in private?”

“Forgive me. _Your Grace_.”

“Aren’t you hilarious. And I might have need of you, but not the way you’re thinking.”

“Which way then?” Theon rolls his hips downwards slowly, and any other day Robb would be very much on board with it, but right now he thinks he’d rather do something else.

“Mmh, I think I just need you to stay still and let me appreciate how good you look in that.”

Theon shivers when Robb kisses the side of his jaw a moment later - by the time Robb has kissed a vertical line downwards and is busy biting gently at the soft skin between his neck and his shoulder, Theon has gone lax against him, his hands resting against Robb’s hips but not really moving either way. Robb’s teeth leave his skin dark pink when he’s done, and then he presses a kiss there just because - Theon shivers, but the little moan that just escaped his mouth says everything. Robb covers it with the shirt again - he had moved it away before - and proceeds on kissing his way upwards again, his mouth trailing against Theon’s neck and his chin before he finds his lips. Theon openly moans into it, opening up to him at once as Robb runs his hands carefully along his back, under the lace. He keeps the kiss slow, breaking it off once in a while but diving in again a moment later - by the time his lips feel numb, Theon’s look ridiculously kiss-swollen. Not that either of them minds. He kisses the corner of Theon’s mouth before moving to his cheek and he can feel that Theon is trying not to laugh.

“So, your plan’s to kiss me senseless?” Theon asks.

“You don’t sound too adverse to that now, do you?” Robb kisses his temple for good measure, too.

“It’s going to take you a while if you want to make me faint from it.”

“What can I say, I like a challenge. Especially if it means that you really might pass for a Dornish paramour, when I’m done.”

“Fuck you very much, Your Grace.”

Robb snorts as his arm grips Theon’s waist tighter. “Not right now, but I’d like to see you try.”

Then he kisses his mouth again, effectively cutting off any reply - Theon is grinning into the kiss, and then he moans into it again when Robb moves one of his hands from his back to his hair and starts carding through it - that usually tends to shut him up for good, and right now Robb would really like to get on with his kissing him senseless plan. Not to mention that he wants to leave more than one mark - it’s only going to make things interesting when they arrive in Pyke. Asha has a thing for it and it’s not like Robb can’t pay her a favor, once in a while.

3.

At the beginning, it was weird to see his sister sitting next to Robb while receiving his bannermen (and the contrary).

Right now, it’s more vastly amusing than else. He’s sitting far in the corner of the room, looking at the two of them, and he can pinpoint the times Asha wishes she could just kill the person she’s talking to. The thing is that most of those times he can see that Robb is equally frustrated or thinking the same thing. And fine, it hadn’t been Theon’s idea, technically - his plan had been asking his father for an alliance, not joining the two kingdoms, but he also hadn’t expected Robb to decide to come with him at the last moment. Surely he hadn’t expected Robb and Asha to get along the moment she got over his surname and had to admit that his plan was sound.

He hadn’t expected his father to refuse categorically either, but before they could reason with him he had died falling off a bridge during a storm, and at that point clearly there had been arguing about the succession - it should have been Theon but he had been at Winterfell for too long and not many lords on the islands were fine with it, and Asha was a woman, and at that point Robb had gone and said that there was no point in arguing while they might be as well be out winning a war - they should unite the North and the Iron Islands, and at that point who was going to be able to stop them?

“Damn,” Asha had said, “I suppose that it means that we should get married, shouldn’t we?”

“I could do worse,” Robb had replied without even blinking. “Not to mention that even if we do that, I think it would be someone else benefiting, or wouldn’t it?”

“Excellent point,” Asha had agreed. “Well, let’s see. If I we do it, you would leave me the last word concerning my people’s affairs?”

“Of course. As long as the reverse is valid.”

“Seems only fair. For what concerns the rest…” she had glanced at Theon then, a small smile on her lips, before looking at Robb again.

“For what concerns the rest, I think it’s only fair that we should share equally.”

“Well then Stark, I think we have a deal. Don’t ever expect me to wear your cloak, though. Well, outside the only time I suppose I will have to.”

“If it makes you feel better, _that one time_ I might wear yours just so we’re on the same footing. And after that, I’m pretty sure I know how to put both cloaks to good use.”

Asha had grinned the grin of someone who had absolutely nothing against that proposal.

Both cloaks are currently folded in a chest under Theon’s bed at Winterfell - he’s had them since the bedding. Not that said bedding had gone the way beddings are supposed to go - actually, before the two of them even touched each other exclusively, they had made him come three times, and he had been sore for the next day or so but it had been entirely worth it. Fine, the wedding hadn’t been exactly the usual kind since Theon is pretty sure that there’s never been a wedding in Westeros where the groom took the bride’s cloak after she took his, but no one ever tried to imply that it wasn’t valid.

Then they won the war and they’re an independent kingdom, and they both try to stay in the same place at the same time, even if it doesn’t always happen. Theon usually waits for them to make arrangements - they did take the sharing equally thing seriously, and Theon has absolutely nothing against letting them decide. He also has absolutely nothing against the arrangement where he’s not ruling over the Iron Islands, but deep down he had known that it wasn’t his place shortly after he set foot in Pyke again. He had been far away too long, and he hadn’t even realized how he should have dressed when he saw his father for the first time in years - how was he going to rule over people whose customs he had tried too hard to remember and ended up eventually forgetting?

No, he thinks he likes it a lot better the way it is. He’s shaken from his trail of thought when he hears a soft growl - Robb’s wolf is crouching at his feet. Theon glances across the room at Robb as he reaches down to rub behind Grey Wind’s ears. Robb looks at him for a moment, sending him a smile that’s half-apologetic and half smug - Theon grins back and keeps on petting the soft fur beneath his fingers, and doesn’t miss that Robb spends the next hour or so hearing bannermen pretending successfully that he’s not annoyed. His sister keeps on staring at most of them with a pleased enough smile and eyes that say _I would kill you on the spot if only I could_ , and it might be sending a rush of blood towards his groin, but he doesn’t make a show of it. When they’re down to the last three, he stands up quietly and heads out of the room, Grey Wind in tow - considering how those two are after they spend the morning dealing with the lords (they’re actually in a much better mood when it’s smallfolk) he might as well spare them some effort. He walks the stairs and goes to his room to change - he carefully takes off a dark blue outfit made of soft, good wool that Asha got somewhere in Braavos the one time she went there. It was realm business, but he never bothered to ask. Not that it wasn’t a good choice, especially with this weather, but there’ll be a fire going on in Robb’s room and he won’t be cold for long, will he?

He smiles to himself as he puts on a pair of fine leather breeches (well, proof that something nice can come out of Pyke’s tailors - he doesn’t know where Asha found them, but he’s sure that his father would have flipped if he saw her wearing them, let alone him) followed by another of those Dornish tunics that Robb had found in King’s Landing - this one is black and gray satin. He ties a leather belt around his waist before putting on his boots again and heading for Robb’s room - it shouldn’t be too long now.

It’s not too long - he can hear the two of them talking not long after he closes the door behind him and Grey Wind.

“ - understand how you have been dealing with them until now,” Asha is saying. “Seriously, who even argues over five acres of land?”

“Why, how does it work where you come from?”

“It’s never brought in front of anyone because one of the two has usually maimed the other first,” Asha replies, sounding as if she thinks that it’s a perfectly acceptable alternative.

“With those two maybe it wouldn’t even be that bad of a solution, since they haven’t settled it in the last three months,” Robb sighs in agreement as they come closer.

Well, Robb really must be exasperated if he’s not outright disagreeing with her methods.

“You aren’t saying that I’m wrong? Are you sick, Stark?”

“Never say that I can’t recognize when others are right, Greyjoy.”

“I think we both need to stop thinking about such trivial matters, don’t we?”

“Can’t disagree with that either.”

They’re just outside now. Robb pushes the door open - Grey Wind stands up and leaves as he does. Robb and Asha walk inside a moment later and he merely leans against the wall, not doing anything either way. He has to grin to himself when the two of them look at him very, very appreciatively.

“At least one of us spent his time more productively,” Asha declares.

“Did I?”

“It seems like this is the day when I happen to agree with your sister all the time.” Robb is grinning as he shares a look with Asha.

“Then I suppose you’ll agree with me on what I would like to do now.” She leans closer and whispers something in Robb’s ear - Robb’s grin gets even wider before he whispers something else back at her and while Theon sometimes would really like to know what it is that they’re discussing, most times he likes it better if he finds out on his own later.

“I think I like it,” Robb approves before he closes the distance between the two of them, grabbing a handful of tunic and tugging him closer.

“Missed me?” He asks.

“Not when your wolf was trailing me, I don’t think so.”

“As if you don’t like it.” And then Robb is kissing him without giving him a chance to reply, not that Theon minds at all. He’s so engrossed in it that he barely feels it when Asha moves in behind him, her arm going around his waist and undoing his belt, her mouth pressed against his neck. Her teeth bite down gently, her tongue running along his skin, and he sighs into the kiss - yes. It’s barely started and he already feels hot all over.

“Bed?” Robb asks Asha when he breaks the kiss.

“Mmh, yes.”

Robb moves away and pulls the covers over, while Theon moans out loud as Asha keeps on sucking onto that piece of skin on his neck. Her hand is moving over his stomach now, her fingers so very rough.

“Bring him over,” Robb says, and a moment later Asha has pushed him face down on the bed before grabbing his arm and turning him on his back.

“Well,” she says, “I’d have never thought leather would look good paired with that. There’s always something new to learn, isn’t it?”

“It’s a pity that they both have to go,” Robb agrees as he sits next to her.

“Sadly. The leather can stay on longer though. If it gets really ruined, I suppose I can find another pair.”

The tone is pretty final and Robb doesn’t argue - he pushes Theon’s tunic upwards and he arches up from the bed, raising his arms, giving him enough space to pull. He kicks off his own shoes - no point in wasting time. Robb’s arms go to his shoulders then - he opens his eyes and meets Robb’s, and even if he’s looking at him upside down it’s obvious that Robb likes what he sees.

Robb’s thumbs dig into his shoulders as he rubs small circles on them while Asha stands up from the bed and gets rid of her breeches - when she climbs back up, she’s naked from the waist down.

“I’m sure you would give a valiant try to take her mind off my bannermen, wouldn’t you?” Robb asks as she slowly spreads her legs, her back leaning against the headboard.

“And what’s in it for me?” he asks, even as he’s already rolling on his stomach.

“Oh, there’s a lot in it for you,” Asha says. “He totally had a good idea, before. Moments when I understand why I accepted his crazy alliance.”

“Don’t pretend that you don’t like me,” Robb says, and Theon can hear it - he’s probably smirking right now.

“In your dreams, Stark.”

Robb’s hands are still on his shoulders, guiding them forward, not that Theon hadn’t suspected the destination. Then Robb moves his left hand to the back of his head, gently pushing it downwards until he has it between Asha’s legs - his other hand is slowly running across his back, but if relaxing was the point then Robb doesn’t really need to. He’s already feeling lax, his head halfway there to that place where he really isn’t capable of much coherent thinking, and he doesn’t hesitate before closing the distance and putting his mouth on Asha’s inner thigh. He licks a small stripe before doing it on the other side and then proceeding to run his tongue over the outer soft, pink flesh in front of him. She’s wet, a lot, and he figures that if they aren’t saying otherwise is fine to take his time. When he actually puts his mouth on her clit instead of circling around it her hips thrust forward, but it’s fine, it’s not like it’s never happened before - Robb is still there with his hand running through his hair all over.

“Mh, _yes_ ,” Asha moans from above, her hands going to Theon’s wrists and keeping them pinned on the mattress. “Oh, yes.”

“Doing good?” Robb asks.

“That’s what - what I call doing very good,” Asha says, slightly stammering in between, and fine, maybe he feels proud of himself at that, but he’s not letting it affect the rest. He wishes he could use his fingers, but that’s not the case, and so he keeps on using his tongue - she’s still so very wet, and as he pushes his tongue in deeper he can taste salt all over his mouth. Asha’s thumbs are rubbing his wrists even as she forbids him to move them, and he shivers when the fingers Robb was running on his back brush against the small of his back, just above his waist line. He unlaces his breeches after moving his hand beneath his groin, and Theon feels cool air hit his back as Robb pushes the leather and his smallclothes down to his thighs.

“Should I go on?” Robb asks.

“By all means, Stark. If you need a hand, you’re welcome.”

“I didn’t know having his tongue on your cunt would make you this nice to deal with.”

“Don’t even think of - mmh, of exploiting it.”

“As if,” Robb replies before he tugs on Theon’s hair a bit, enough that he stops his ministrations.

He didn’t exactly expect him to push a couple of fingers into his mouth, but he complies - he sucks down on them until they’re wet, and then Robb moves them away and pushes them inside Asha for maybe a moment before moving back to his place. “My thanks,” he says courteously, and then one of those fingers goes inside him and Theon doesn’t groan out loud just because his mouth is pressed against Asha’s cunt again and because Robb only pushed a knuckle inside. 

A moment later, though, he’s pushing the entire finger, and Theon knows that he also must have used some oil because it feels a bit too smooth, but he tries not to mind right now. Robb’s other hand is still on his head though.

“Now,” Robb says as he slowly keeps on pushing that finger inside, “it would please her to see you come while you have your mouth on her. I think we can both manage that, can’t we?”

He’s supposed to say something if he’s not fine with it.

He’s perfectly fine with it, though, and he says nothing.

“All right then. Don’t worry, there’s something else in it for you.”

By now, he doesn’t even care about the specifics. He moans a little as Robb pushes in the second finger, his voice almost vibrating against Asha’s thigh before he moves to press a kiss where her soft, pink flesh becomes tanned and rougher, and he outright moans out loud when Robb shoves both fingers inside, hitting exactly where they should have. Sometimes he thinks he should feel ashamed that it takes a couple of fingers thrusting up his ass for a couple of times to make his insides feel as if they’ll liquify any second, but that’s not the point - he’s stopped hating himself for certain things he likes, and so he takes it with another shudder. Asha probably feels that he’s getting sloppy - ever time Robb’s fingers draw back and then forward he loses his rhythm, but then one of her hands leaves his wrist and closes around his neck, her fingers gripping with a certain strength but without pushing either as her thumb traces the love bite she left him a short while ago. Robb suddenly bends his fingers and the friction that his cock is getting from moving against the mattress isn’t good enough anymore.

“Stark,” Asha says, sounding breathless. “I think you can stop stalling.”

“As my lady commands.”

And then he moves his fingers backwards again and shoves them forward as deep as it goes and - all right, that’s it - he can’t see straight anymore and he’s almost grateful when Robb brings his head backwards as he comes against the mattress - Robb grabs his shoulders and hauls him up a moment later, his chest pressed against Theon’s back, one arm around his waist and one closing around his cock as he strokes him throughout it, and the leather is probably ruined, but he can’t really care, not when his blood is boiling and there are white spots beneath his eyelids, and he can taste salt if he licks his lips. He does notice Asha’s hand joining Robb’s on his cock though, and after that he really can’t put together a coherent thought anymore.

When he opens his eyes again he’s still pressed up against Robb and he’s panting, but he also feels good in the way only this kind of fucking makes him feel, and he’s still feeling lax and boneless as Robb holds him up. He’s also aware that his thighs are covered in his own come, but he can’t care less right now.

“I’d keep my eyes open if I were you,” Asha says a moment later before moving on her knees.

“Should I?”

“Seems to me like you’re the only one who’s not hard now. Or the equivalent. And since I know that you do like the sight…”

“… I think this might be one of the times when she actually lets me fuck her.”

“More of you’re letting me fuck you, Stark, but as you wish. And I think you would like to see it properly, wouldn’t you?”

Theon knows he’s flushing, but the mere idea is about to make him hard again. “Please?”

“You can ask nicely, then,” Asha declares. “And who am I to say no to nice requests. Stark, get over here.”

Theon lets himself fall down on the bed as Robb slowly moves away from behind him before he’s kneeling on Theon’s right, Asha in front of him.

So they almost never kiss or do much to each other if he’s not in between them, but they kiss like they mean it now - and it’s nowhere near slow or refined or courtly. It’s rough, almost violent kissing, neither of them willing to give the upper hand without putting a bit of a fight first, and as Robb pulls out of his breeches Theon can’t help noticing that he’s rock hard by now.

“So you did like that, too, didn’t you?”

“Understatement,” Robb replies before she rolls over so that she’s straddling him. “And you’re really not even going to pretend that neither of us is fucking the other, are you?”

“Where’s the fun otherwise?” Asha shrugs, still smirking.

“Good point. Well then, fuck me if you think you can.”

The bed creaks audibly as Asha lowers herself down on Robb in a smooth motion, and Robb groans out loud as his hips arch upwards - his hands grab her hips hard enough that they’re going to leave bruises, but Asha doesn’t seem to mind at all. If anything, she seems delighted at the challenge and only too interested in trying to see if she can set her pace. Theon doesn’t even mind about their little contests anymore - let them have it if that’s how they like it. What he minds is that they look gorgeous like this - Robb’s fingers digging into her sides, her short hair plastered on her forehead because of sweat, Robb’s grin as he bites down on her shoulder, her fingers scratching at his back. The more he looks at them the wider the smile on his face becomes - he knows that they don’t do this often and they’re doing it just for his own benefit, which only makes his blood run hotter.

Asha does make good on her promise though - even if Theon was sure that she was this close to coming, she holds on for longer than he had thought, not letting Robb have the upper hand until she can’t keep it back anymore. Her head arches backwards as she moans out loud, and Robb follows not later, after flipping the two of them so that she has her back against the mattress and he can pull out one last time before giving a last, deep thrust. Theon is positive that these particular sheets are well past ruined by now, but he’s too busy feeling like he could probably come all over again just by looking at Robb lying sprawled over Asha, the two of them breathing in deeply.

Not for long though - Asha shoves Robb off her the moment she’s regained her breath.

“Gods,” Robb mutters, “my little sister would be a proper lady in comparison to you. Maybe if I told my mother she’d stop worrying about her.”

“Stark, I can’t recall your mother ever having a problem with me. Wait, I recall her telling me that she was glad that you were going into an alliance with _someone with some sense_ , or do I remember that wrong?”

“That doesn’t mean that you have any semblance of manners,” Robb huffs, and then he sighs as if he’s making this great effort before sitting up on the bed and moving on Theon’s free side, pushing him in the middle.

“You should do that more often,” he says, almost moaning when Robb’s fingertip trails over the reddened skin at the back of his neck. “And I don’t mean the part where you try to outlast each other.”

“Oh, are you suggesting that we fulfill our marriage duties?” Robb is laughing as he says it, as if it’s a completely ridiculous prospect. “I think we both like it best another way.”

“And that’d be the first sensed thing he’s said all evening,” Asha agrees, and Theon doesn’t protest as they put their hands on his shoulders and turn him over so that he’s laying on his stomach. “Though I could do worse.”

“How generous of you, _my lady_. But I think I might be about to say something you’d find sensed, too.” His hand runs along Theon’s spine until it reaches the small of his back - he moans into the pillow when Robb presses down on it. The bastard knows that it’s just going to give his spent cock some more friction against the sheets, even if the way things are going he’s pretty sure that he could get hard again shortly, and without much effort.

“Let’s hear it.”

“Well, there’s nothing that requires my attention or yours in the afternoon - anything that might happen, Sansa can deal with it. How about we take some more time here and,” he whispers into Theon’s ear, but loud enough that she can hear him, too, “you take her fingers while I worry about your cock? It’s early enough - I’m pretty sure you’re not done for today.”

He doesn’t moan out loud at the prospect just because he’d like to pretend he still has some dignity, but he also knows to ask nicely. “Please,” he almost whimpers, but he manages to keep his voice straight.

“Fine, Stark, I’ll give it to you. That was a very sensed proposal,” Asha agrees, and then they’re touching him again - he lets them, he’s not sure he could hold himself upright. It’s not long before Robb is beneath him, his hand wrapped around Theon’s cock, even if he’s just keeping it there for the moment. When Asha’s fingertips touch Theon’s lips he takes them in dutifully, groaning around them as Robb’s fingers start moving around his cock in small, quick strokes, and his mouth almost feels empty when Asha takes them away.

And then - she’s nowhere near as careful as Robb, shoving two fingers in at once, and Theon would have whimpered for real if Robb’s free hand hadn’t wrapped around his neck and pulled his head down. They’re kissing now, Robb’s tongue tracing his lips and teeth, his nails rubbing circles on his scalp, his other hand is still stroking him slowly while Asha’s fingers bend inside him, and he knows that they’re not going to make this quick - he’s not fully hard again and Robb isn’t going to get down to business until it happens. He’s sore all over, but it’s the good kind of, and he shudders when Asha’s free hand moves on his hip, more or less preventing him from moving too much.

Nothing that he doesn’t want though, and they both know it - he’s absolutely fine staying in between them, the best place he’s ever found himself in.

He knows that they’ll draw it out but that it’s going to pay off in the end, and that they might go for another round or not (and if they do he won’t say no) - and when they’re done one of them (Robb, most probably) will find some water and clean the two of them up (Asha is never going to let Robb do that). They’ll pretend to argue for a bit before they’ll find him something to wear for dinner, and maybe he’ll spend it feeling sore all over, but it’s nowhere near uncomfortable most times. And even the few times when it is, he likes it regardless - after all, it only reminds him of what went down not long before, and that he’s _theirs_ , and that’s exactly the way he wants it to stay.

End.


End file.
